A Practical Guide To Literary Analysis
by Cadence
Summary: Mid-S3, a snowstorm strands Lorelai, Rory, and Jess together at the Independence Inn on Christmas Eve. Who's feeling the Christmas spirit? Not Lorelai, that's for sure.


**Title: **A Practical Guide to Literary Analysis

**Characters/Pairings: **Lorelai**, **Rory/Jess  
**Rating:** PG

**Acknowledgement:** To finnigan_geist for FORCING MY HAND and doing unspeakable things to me until I wrote this. Also: for the beta work. :)

**Summary:** Mid-S3, a snowstorm stands Lorelai, Rory, and Jess together at the Independence Inn on Christmas Eve. Who's feeling the Christmas spirit? Not Lorelai, that's for sure.

"And Michel," Lorelai started, hobbling on one heel and gesturing with the other as she tried to lay down the rest of the holiday guidelines. Between finishing up at the inn and the tight schedule to make it over to her grandparents' for Christmas Eve, in the end it had been easier for Rory to bring her dress and for Lorelai to change, so the girls could leave directly without a pit stop at home. It did, however, have the side effect of making Lorelai look out of place and lopsided as she completed her ensemble and struggled to complete all her inn tasks.

Michel lifted a bored eyebrow at her and she glared back, prodding him with the business end of her beloved Blahnik.

"I don't want to hear about anymore kids sleeping off your special eggnog. Leaving the drugging to the parents."

"But children, they can be so _noisy_," he lamented. "And the inn's tree is so beautiful, with each of those perfectly wrapped little gifts beneath it. Why should we let children sully it?"

"Hmm, let me think. Because it's _Christmas_ and that's the way the holiday works. Santa Claus and early mornings and Daisy Red Ryder guns with complimentary eye patches all around."

Michel had become very good at sifting the gold from the dross in her rambling speeches over the years. He narrowed his eyes at her, having gleaned the most salient of her points.

"I am not," he pronounced, disgust dripping from every word "dressing up as your 'Santa Claus'."

"Aw, come on, Michel! Tobin would do it!"

"And that is why I despise both you and him."

Michel turned sharply on one foot, stepping briskly back over to the reception counter and offering a false smile to the customer waiting there. Lorelai deflated, finally fitting her heel to her foot as she grumbled to herself. Tobin _would_ have done it, if Lorelai hadn't been dumb enough to give him the holiday off, consequently leading to Tobin doing something _very different_ with his boyfriend in Vermont. At least, Lorelai hoped it was different.

Fingers waggled in front of Lorelai's face, saving her from the mental image she'd unwillingly evoked. Relieved, Lorelai focused on her daughter's hand.

"Time," Rory said, turning her wrist awkwardly to display her watch. "In fact, thirty minutes past time. And forty past when Grandma really wanted us to show up, even though she didn't say it."

"Eh. So we'll speed."

"In this weather?"

Rory raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to direct her mother's attention out the window. It was dark outside, late winter bringing sunset early, but the cloudy skies reflected just enough of the street lights to halo everything in a misty gray. Plump, wet snowflakes swirled past the window, piling higher onto a fresh drift of white snow.

"Even better!" Lorelai said. "I didn't speed at all, but the weather and the traffic were just so bad, and aren't I wonderful for going through all of that just to be with my family on Christmas?"

"Would have been more wonderful if we'd left half an hour ago."

"Hon," Lorelai said, pressing two fingers against her temple and squinting at her daughter, "am I sensing some animosity?"

"No. I mean," Rory sighed and flopped back onto the reception room couch, crumpling her gold taffeta, feet splayed out childishly before her. "Yes, but not you. Sorry, Mom."

"Still the Jess thing?" Lorelai asked. She smoothed her skirt to sit next to Rory and wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders as she slipped into supportive-and-not-judgmental-mom mode. "Ohh, I could smack him for that. And I will, if you want me to. Do you? Please say yes."

Okay. As she _tried_ to slip into supportive mode. She never said she was perfect.

"No, mom. I just... we're a couple now, and it's Christmas and I really thought that might mean something to him too!"

"Did you tell him that?"

Rory cast her a strange look.

"Did I tell him that Christmas is sort of a big deal? Gee, no. I forgot."

"No, Rory, I mean. That's just the thing. Christmas _is_ a big deal, and you guys have barely been together a month. Don't you think it might just be a little too much, too soon? You might just be expecting too much."

"I don't think expecting a gift – _any gift_ – on Christmas from my boyfriend is too much," Rory said, suddenly blinking away tears. "And if it is, then..."

"Oh, Rory, no!" Lorelai said, pulling her closer in a one armed embrace. "No crying. We definitely don't have time to reapply make up!"

"Then maybe we shouldn't even be together. There, I said it! Hurrah, happy days are here again!"

"Rory..."

Lorelai hated this. Hated that smug brat for putting Rory through this – because, really, what kind of boyfriend completely forgot about Christmas and then had the _nerve_ to lie and say that he just "hadn't finished" the gift yet? What, was he building a sculpture out of stolen lawn ornaments and waiting on that final piece to swipe off of Babbette's lawn?

But it was even worse, listening to Rory say the things she thought Lorelai wanted to hear about their relationship. She didn't want her daughter to be miserable any time, and while Jess wasn't the guy she'd nominate for anything other than hooligan of the year, Rory's relationship with him needed to be on her own terms, parcel to her own feelings. The idea that she might drive a wedge between them, just by virtue of her own motherly concerns, disturbed her as much as it secretly thrilled her. She knew her own mother's opinions on her relationships had fueled a large number of them, but they had never once influenced her to give up something she wanted. She wanted to think that wasn't the Gilmore way, but Rory was making that difficult.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Jess!" Rory exclaimed, springing to her tangled feet and stumbling as she turned. Jess reached out to steady her.

Lorelai shifted uncomfortably in her seat. How long had he been standing there? She felt a flash of anger. How long had he been standing, listening to his girlfriend _cry_, doing nothing?

"What are you doing here?" Rory asked, turning slightly to the side to swipe at her tears. Gently, Jess turned her back, brushing his fingers across her cheek. His jaw worked, and for a moment Lorelai thought he was going to apologize. No such luck. He pulled back as if burned, holding his hands behind his back as he shrugged.

"You said you were coming here. So I wanted to," he sighed deeply, a look of frustration flickering over his features before he looked up, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "I wanted to give you your gift."

"My gift?"

Rory's lips turned up in a tremulous smile and Jess smiled back, voice going even softer as he confirmed, "Your gift."

"Where is it?" Rory asked, bouncing on her heels. She looked over his shoulder, as if he'd somehow stashed it when he'd come in. Plausible, Lorelai considered, for real, legitimate gifts. Whatever Jess was planning, however, made that more doubtful.

"Right here," he said, indicating a bulge along the side of his cavernous leather jacket. He moved to unzip the pocket and then paused, pressing his lips together before warning Rory, "It's unwrapped."

"What? Oh," Rory stropped bouncing, chewing of her lip to consider, weighing the draw of a new present against the draw of a _shiny_ new present, decked out in proper holiday paper.

"Then wrap it. Mom always keeps it in the desk and they pull it out when guests aren't around to decorate," she said, gesturing toward the gifts under the tree.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. And, um," Rory blushed, wiping a hand again over her face. "I should go. And fix my make up. Got a party to get to. So, wrap it and hurry and then I'll see you tomorrow?"

Jess nodded silently, reaching out to take her hand. Rory tilted her head, offering a surprised look, but he ignored it, pulling her in closer for a quick kiss. He released her to dash off to the bathroom, nearly tripping as she looked backward at him, smiling widely.

"Good save," Lorelai said coolly from the couch. "I almost believed it. What do you have in there, coal?"

Jess wheeled around on his heels, expression dark and flat as he replied, "Brick, actually, from the yellow-brick road. Thought I'd shake life up for the Lollipop Guild."

Struck with the sudden image of Taylor in short pants and tights, orange hair curled up as he sang about the Lullaby League, Lorelai had to repress the burst of laughter bubbling up inside her. She choked it off, glaring weakly at Jess when he smirked at her.

"So, this party," he started, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's here at the inn?"

"Hartford," Lorelai said curtly. She gave him a suspicious eye, telling him that no, he was not invited. Jess ignored the look, twisting around to look out the window. Unwillingly, Lorelai's gaze followed his, again noting the sky high piles of snow.

"How are you planning on getting there? You flying?"

"What?"

"I-91's closed. So, unless you two have heretofore unknown superpowers beyond your gastronomic abilities... I think you're stuck."

"Funny," Lorelai said, standing to go behind the desk. She could swear they had an old radio back there somewhere. No way was she simply taking Jess's word on this. He was probably hoping to trick her into letting Rory stay with him all evening. Not, admittedly, that the idea of avoiding her mother, father, high society, and all attendant holiday arguments was unappealing. It was just... Jess. She was not stooping to believing him just because it was something she wanted. "Somehow, I don't believe you."

"Heard it on the radio on the way over. But if you want to get in a car accident, by all means. Go ahead."

His emphasis on 'car accident' did not slip past her. Lorelai seethed as she continued searching.

"Damn it," she swore, pulling out drawers and slamming them back in. "I know it's here somewhere."

"You mean your computer?" Jess said. Lorelai's head snapped up. Jess jerked his head forward, indicating the Mac to her right. He was barely suppressing a smirk as he added helpfully, "I hear those are useful. All that newfangled technology. I even heard there's a _web_ of computers, _world_ _wide_ that'll give you just about any information you need."

Flushing, Lorelai turned away from him to shake the mouse and wake the computer up. God, how was it that she could _hear_ his smirk? The boy had talent, that was sure. A few clicks confirmed that Jess was right – in fact, the situation looked a lot grimmer than he'd let on. _All_ of the roads were closed: I-91, I-84, CT-9, and pretty much every single street in Stars Hollow. She was stuck. At the inn. With _Jess_.

"Merry freakin' Christmas," she grumbled to herself. Narrowing her eyes, she glowered over at Jess. "Did you want something else? Aside from ruining the happiest day of the year?"

"Arbor day?" Jess asked. "And you know, I don't actually have close personal friendship with Zeus. I didn't call down this storm."

Lorelai refused to dignify that – or admit he was right.

"I'm waiting," she huffed.

"I need wrapping paper," Jess said, meeting her eyes bluntly.

Lorelai forced a smile. She had a feeling it came out less than pleasant.

"For what, hon?"

She wasn't _quite_ so petty as to crow at the flinch and narrowed eyes the endearment provoked. She settled for dancing on the inside.

"For the present you don't think I have."

"For the..." Lorelai trailed off, batting her eyes at him. "What makes you think I don't believe you?"

"Please," he scoffed. He jerked his chin toward the large blue spruce in reception, the multicolored proliferation of gifts underneath it. "Rory already gave you up. Don't pretend you don't have any."

Rolling her eyes, Lorelai ducked down to dig for the wrapping paper scraps she hid there, largely with the intent of papering Michel's car around New Years. They were bits and odd shaped pieces, not a whole roll left anywhere among them. She did still have a handful of bows that she had sequestered away from Tobin's decoration spree, but you couldn't cover a whole gift with those – assuming Jess's gift was bigger than a thumbnail, anyway.

She stroked her fingers idly over one of the shinier bows, hoping she wouldn't have to sacrifice too many. Those she'd kept just for Luke. His hair and his clothes and all available surfaces in the diner.

"How big?" she asked.

"Book-sized."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. Helpful.

"Big book, little book, old book, Good Book?"

"This book," Jess said, pulling it from one of his larger jacket pockets. It was large, at least five hundred pages, and probably in teeny tiny print too. Brick indeed. The spine was broken many times over, the pages dog eared and well thumbed. On the cover, shining gold stars were picked out above an impressionistic ship on the sea. The title was embossed a similarly gleaming font: "The Island of the Day Before."

Lorelai took the proffered book, flipping through it skeptically. She tilted her head to the side, reading the notes Jess had inscribed in his small, humorously neat script.

"'Roberto's a twit'," she quoted, a sour twist to her lips. "Deep stuff. I can see this was worth the wait."

Jess set his jaw, meeting her eyes challengingly.

"It's about longitude. The mysteries of navigating the world. No small part Renaissance theology, too. And Roberto _is_ a twit. He's a smart guy, but he's always letting himself be led astray by the intellectual fashions of his time. Anyone acts like they have any kind of authority, and he's a dog at their heels, listening to them pontificate and nodding along. He even manages to get one of them killed because he's so busy agreeing and letting the master assert his own brilliance that he doesn't point out what a dumb plan he has."

Lorelai shifted in place, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He was talking about Rory, wasn't he? What a vicious thing to say – or not say. Say subtextually, she asserted mentally, fuming.

"And then he has sex with a map," Jess added, almost as an after thought. Lorelai shot him a look, confused about how that fit into her Rory-is-Roberto theory. He explained with a shrug, "He thought it looked like his girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Wow. Sign me up for never reading this," Lorelai said, thrusting the book back to him.

"And you seemed like _such_ a reader," Jess replied. Gah, if _ever_ there was someone she wanted to slap.

"Here. Happy Hanukkah," Lorelai said, pushing dreidel themed scraps across the desk at him. "Now I have to go and tell everyone that we're snowed in, if you'll excuse me."

Anger still tingling along her nerves, she brushed past him, clicking her way across the lobby floor to find Sookie and Michel – God only knew where the latter had disappeared off to. In her temper, she almost collided with Rory as she skidded into the room and for the second time that evening, nearly tumbled to the floor. Lorelai grasped her daughter, catching her mid-fall.

"Whoa, hold up there, Bessie! There's no rush."

"Time! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to take so long. But then there was Sookie and she wanted me to test her pie and her gingerbread and..." Rory shrugged helplessly. "Grandma's going to kill us, isn't she?"

Lorelai looped one arm around her daughter's waist, turning her to guide her out.

"Only me – and not for a few days. We're snowed in, sweets. No chance of partying down with the Gilmores tonight."

"Oh," Rory said, disappointment and then relief flashing over her face. She turned once more, casting a look toward the desk where Jess was neatly creasing paper around the tome he called a gift. Rory's brow furrowed. "Shouldn't we call to tell them?"

"Nah. It's more fun this way. Now, what was that about Sookie and pie?"

***

Luckily, since Lorelai had been in the process of changing into her party clothes, they were still on hand and she was quickly back in her own, more comfortable workaday shoes. Rory, sadly, was not so lucky. She'd changed first at home, bringing over Lorelai's party clothes so that they could leave together.

Rory had been upbeat about the prospect of sleeping in her dress, merely shrugged and swishing it side to side before taking Jess's hand again. Lorelai got the feeling his presence had a lot to do with her daughter's sudden desire to dress to impress while snowed in.

After pie and finding a sturdy paper bag to calm Sookie in the wake of the news that she and Jackson would _not_ be spending their first Christmas together, Lorelai went to give the bad news to the guests in the dining room. She caught them as they entered – Michel and Rory sent off to roust the laggards and corral the rest of the staff. By and large, the guests were taking the news of the road closures with calm, even appreciative, aplomb. Of course, they were. The majority were couples seeking a romantic retreat, far from in-laws and family drama. A few feet of snow only added to the cozy, private atmosphere of the inn.

Announcements complete, Lorelai stepped down from the raised musician's dais set up at the fore of the dining room. The guests murmured to each other as she swiveled and swerved through the milling crowd, taking their seating for Christmas dinner

The staff, however, was less sanguine. Displeased grumbles followed Lorelai out as the staff trailed her into the lobby. The road closures had come down during shift change – exactly the reason she herself had been trapped – so a large number of the positions were actually doubled up. A few of the staff had called ahead, saying they couldn't make it in because of road conditions, but far more had arrived only to see that the person on shift had not yet left, leaving both stuck.

"Okay," Lorelai called, clapping her hands together to quell the growing disquiet. They had problems to solve. "So, first. What are we doing for food? Sook?"

"Goose and ham and ooh," Sookie grinned, bringing her hands together excitedly, "you should see the pork roast this year. Not quite traditional, I know, but I stuffed it with plums and apples, rubbed it down all over with rosemary salted butter, and I think you're going to love it!"

"That's great, but do we have _enough_?"

"We always do."

"Yes, but," Lorelai sighed, feeling a headache coming on. She loved Sookie, she did, but her unfailing cheer sometimes got a little grating. For instance, when Lorelai had to point out the obvious problems Sookie has missed in her enthusiasm. "I don't know if you noticed, but we've got about twice the staff as usual, plus me. _Plus you_, plus Jess and Rory."

"Oh. Right, well, if it's a problem, I guess we can dig into tomorrow's lunch. The roads should be cleared by then, right?"

"Should be, and if they're not, I guess we can resort to cannibalism."

"Dibs on the Tanners in three oh four! They looked succulent!"

The staff tittered nervously and Lorelai arched an eyebrow at her friend. Sookie just shrugged.

"Alright, so, problem solved. Now we just need a few extra busboys and dish washers – if you guys want to eat on clean dishes, that is. Anita, Carl, can you take care of that?"

Two figures in the back of the crowd nodded, nudging neighbors and heading off to the kitchen to help. Eager to eat, Lorelai supposed, feeling her own stomach grumble sympathetically. Too bad, she thought to it. We've still got work to do.

"Next problem," Lorelai called. "Bedding. We're all going to have to bunk up down here since the inn is booked solid. I need some of you to go raid the laundry room and the old linen closets – anything clean and reasonably warm should do. We're not looking to put our grandmothers up down here."

Lorelai picked out a few more of the extra staff to take care of it, glad to have some problems solved. Others... Her lips thinned as she looked toward where Rory and Jess sat on the couch, holding hands and teasing each other, oblivious to the meeting unfolding around them.

Pulling her gaze away from them, she concluded her directions, "And I know half of you are angry and tired and missing your families, but you're all troopers and I'm so thankful that if I've got to be trapped under a Matterhorn of snow with someone, that it's going to be you. So Merry Christmas, and get back to work!"

The group scattered, going back to their previous tasks. Lorelai caught Michel's arm as he went past.

"Could you go with Matt and make sure he does a little better than putting the sheets to the frat boy sniff test?"

"Yes, I could do that, were I not _busy_," Michel said, brushing past her to the reception desk. Lorelai resisted the urge to make faces at his back. Or didn't.

"Ooh, this is going be just like a slumber party," Sookie enthused, still standing next to Lorelai. She rocked back on her feet, swaying as she gestured with her jazz hands. "Stayin' up all night, telling scary stories, braiding each others' hair!"

"Call me crazy, but I never really wanted to sleep over with Sour Puss," Lorelai replied, nodding toward Michel. "Or to braid a delinquent's hair." She stopped, brow furrowing as she stared at Jess's gelled up-do. "Does that even work?"

"Wait, so _that's_ Jess?" Sookie asked. "I thought he'd be taller."

"Sookie! You've met him before."

Sookie blinked blandly, shaking her head from side to side.

"No," she said, elongating the vowel as she thought. "I think I would remember."

"The second night he was here? This tall," Lorelai said, holding her hand up uncharitably to her shoulder, before adjusting it up to her chin. "This tall with hair. Scowls a lot. You scared him with lemons!"

"I remember the lemons," Sookie said. She threw another glance over at Jess, and then giggled, "That's the bad boy you're so worried about? He's _adorable_."

"Sook, no! He's..." Lorelai looked over as well. With the room clear, they'd moved from the couch. Jess was smirking, gift held well above his head as Rory gave chase in her own uniquely flailing way. To Rory's credit, she quickly gave up on physical ability, tickling Jess along his flanks, provoking shudders and convulsive gales of laughter from them both. "Okay, there he's a little adorable. But the rest of the time he's a menace!"

"Lorelai, the phone, it is for you," Michel called, receiver hanging limping from his outstretch fingers.

Raising her eyebrows, Lorelai shared a look with Sookie.

"Richard and Emily?" Sookie wondered. "They really do have spies everywhere!"

"Hey, there's a chance..." Lorelai started, before giving up. No, there really wasn't. Nonetheless, she asked Michel, "Who is it?"

"I do not know and I do not care. Some man."

"I should probably go back to the kitchen," Sookie said, backing slowly away from the conflict.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Lorelai stormed over to him. She took the receiver with a deliberately strong tug, thrusting an arm out to point away.

"The sheets, Michel."

He shrugged lightly, sauntering away. She followed his progress with narrowed eyes, willing him upstairs toward the linen closets. Her psychic abilities must have improved, because he followed mental order. And the verbal one. That one too. She turned her attention back to the phone.

"Independence Inn, Lorelai speaking. How may I help you on this fine snowy evening?"

"Lorelai! Is Jess there?"

"Uh, yes. All hoodlums present and accounted for. I'll put him on," Lorelai said. She took the receiver away from her ear before he could respond, covering it with her palm. She called across the room, "Jess!"

He turned, finally escaping Rory's grasp, and stood facing her, hands tucked into pockets. Lorelai waggled the phone at him and his eyebrows climbed toward his moussed and frothy bangs. Not a single muscle twitched forward.

"It's Luke and he's worried about you," she cajoled. Jess sighed, sauntering over to take the phone and she couldn't resist another swipe at him, "You didn't tell him you were coming?"

"It's more fun this way," he deadpanned.

Ugh, whatever. He was Luke's problem for the moment.

***

They ate dinner in shifts – no different from the usual, but for the size of the shifts and the delicate care with which the staff treated the linens and china. Knowing they would likely clean it themselves made them far less likely to be careless. Lorelai, still organizing matters and taking back large chunks of responsibility that otherwise would have been foisted off on Michel, ate only sparingly – ducking in and out of the dining room, sitting in turns beside Matt, Michel, and Rory.

It was only after all of the goose and roast, dressing and potatoes, pie and pudding and cherry cordials, after they were all cleared away that Lorelai had an opportunity to rest and draw her daughter away for a talk. She was sitting near the silvery, lit tree in the lobby, already many pages deep into Jess's gift when Lorelai sat down beside her.

"Hey, hon. Good book?"

A soft smile touched her lips, fingers tracing over the slight indentations of Jess's writing before she looked up.

"I love it."

Lorelai swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat.

"Great. I just wanted to talk for a bit, chew the fat, shoot the breeze. Seems like I'm not seeing you around much tonight."

"Sure!" Rory said, face twisting with disgust a moment later. "And can you never say 'chew the fat' again?"

"Yeah... not my best turn of phrase, there. So, your gift! I see you've opened it," Lorelai said. She winced at the obviousness of her statement, but she honestly couldn't see how else to broach the subject.

Rory didn't seem to notice, giddily latching onto the prompt.

"Yes! I badgered and persuaded and wheedled until Jess had no choice but to give it to me. He wanted to make me wait until tomorrow morning, like 'all the good girls and boys Santa visits.' But then I pouted and he caved!" Rory said. She sighed happily, patting the cover as she looked down at it. "It matches my gift to him, you know? It's perfect. It's kismet."

Lorelai was a tad more skeptical. She had a strong feeling Jess had conspired to find out Rory's gift to him before buying hers, setting himself up to benefit from Rory's positive reaction.

"Oh," she said lightly. "What did you give him?"

"I didn't say? Oh, I didn't say! I gave him another Eco book – _The Name of the Rose_."

Lorelai stared, hoping that wasn't what she thought it was. She really didn't want these two getting any ideas. Damn their book learning. _She_ had never brought this kind of dangerous thinking into her parents' home, that was for sure. She stuck to her MTV and Small Wonder and Alf. She did have a niggling feeling, however, that her parents had been less than appreciative of that.

"That sounds very..." she tried to think of a way to say it. "Very the _other_ R and J. 'A rose by any other name'?"

"What? Oh, no! No, it's not Shakespeare at all. It's a murder mystery set at an abbey in the fourteenth century, but it's also got a lot about philosophy and what heresy is. It talks a lot about humor and Aristotle. Oh," she interrupted herself, blushing, "and it has gay monks!"

Lorelai turned her head, letting that statement wash over her.

"You two like the strangest books."

"He won the Bancarella prize," Rory defended.

"And I'll pretend I know what that is," Lorelai said with a definitive nod. "So, you got each other matching gifts. Wow, how 'Gift of the Magi' is that?"

Rory's brow knitted in confusion.

"Not at all?"

"Why not?"

"Because we can both use them and we didn't sacrifice anything to buy them... or, I hope Jess didn't, anyway. And is that the only Christmas story you know?"

"Um. There's also Scrooge!"

"Not the duck," Rory said, mock disapproval on her face.

"Of course not! What do you take me for?" Lorelai asked. She waved her hands, saying, "The one with–"

"And not the one that's Bill Murray either," Rory interrupted.

"Fine. I got nothing." Lorelai sighed, pursing her lips as she thought. She felt a nervous skip to the beat of her heart. She didn't want to bring up what Jess had said about Rory. Not now, not after the book had made her so happy. She needed a distraction. She needed... "How about a movie?"

"Sounds great!"

Grinning, Lorelai checked her shoulder into Rory softly.

"Help me look, sweets?"

But Rory was looking across the room, dreamy expression on her face. Jess had entered, fresh from stealing the silver, Lorelai was sure. Rory stood quickly, brushing out the creases from her dress and pushing her hair behind her ear.

"I'm just going to..." Rory said, flapping a hand toward Jess before scooping up her book and hustling over, dress swishing.

"Sure. Go, kiss, smooch, canoodle. Give me gray hair before my time," Lorelai said to the air, fighting her disappointment as she watched the couple leave. "I'll just look for a movie by myself."

The Independence's movie closet was, unfortunately, too well stocked. Lorelai shut an eye, considering only the left half of the cabinet and the dozens of stacked DVDs, tapes, and possibly _laserdiscs_ piled inside, all unsorted. With a huff and a look out the door to where Matt was spinning an eggnog soaked Sookie under the mistletoe, she rolled up her sleeves. Better get to work before she has too much to explain to Jackson, Lorelai told herself.

A not inconsiderable time later, Lorelai had narrowed her choices to two and gathered everyone together. Two of the maids had wrangled an AV unit from one of the recreation rooms, bringing it down to the dining room with an admirable and unexpected show of upper body strength.

"So, here are our choices! White Christmas," Lorelai said, holding up the DVD case. "Or..."

"Oh, White Christmas! I love that movie," Rory exclaimed, accompanied by happy murmurs from Sookie and the staff.

"Guys, you haven't heard the 'or', yet!" Lorelai whined. Rory looked immediately contrite. She sat up straighter under the blanket she shared with Jess, disentangling their hands to set them primly on the peaks her knees made in the fabric. She cocked her head, posture deliberately attentive. Satisfied, Lorelai swapped the DVDs with a flourish, "Or, Zardoz!"

"Um," Rory said, pressing her lips together.

"_Zardoz_!" Lorelai repeated. She blinked, looking around to see if there were any takers. In the back, Michel shifted and rolled his eyes. "Classic Connery! 'The gun is good! The penis is evil!'"

She could sense she was losing them.

Rory smiled brightly at Lorelai, offering her support. Her tone lacked a certain something, possibly sincerity, as she said, "Oh, that sounds good!"

"I would prefer not to watch this penis movie," Michel said. For once, his sentiment was echoed by the rest of the staff.

"We'll vote!" Rory said gamely. Lorelai grinned at her. That was her little mini-me!

"I think we just did," Jess said, voice almost low enough for Lorelai not to hear.

"So, how many for boring old Bing?" Everyone raised their hand – including Jess. Rory tugged at his arm, urging him to vote with her for Zardoz.

"Oh, come on. You just said you love this movie!"

"Yeah, but..." Rory said, trailing off. Lorelai's smile flickered, Jess's words coming back to her.

"How many for Zardoz?"

Lorelai raised her own hand, enthusiasm lost as she saw Rory join her. Discarding the many layered and exquisite speech she had prepared in defense of Connery's red leather thong in Zardoz, she conceded graciously to the will of the people, and spun White Christmas up.

The movie was wrapping up, Bing and Rosemary singing on stage in all their colorized glory, when Lorelai stretched and stood. She crept from the room, joining Michel and Matt in distributing bedding around the lobby. She plumped a pillow on the couch, glaring sternly at Michel.

"Mine," she said, pointing to it. Michel bobbed his head tiredly, not a single gleam of guile in his eyes, but that didn't mean she wouldn't come back to find him curled in her spot like a cat. At least I tried, she thought to herself.

She make several trips back into the dining room, nudging maid and busboys on the shoulder, rousing them just enough to hand over piles of sheets and pillows. A few shuffled into the other room, but most made their beds where they were, sprawling across the floor and making it difficult to navigate. If only I understood "the mystery of longitude", Lorelai thought to herself sarcastically. She scanned the room, peering through the dimness with squinted eyes as she tried to make out Rory's form. She frowned when she found her daughter, drowsily curled up next to Jess under their shared blanket in the corner of the room. The two of them were practically conjoined twins these days – although, to be fair, most conjoined twins weren't attached by their _lips_.

Lorelai walked to their corner, kneeling down to shake Rory's shoulder.

"Up, up!" she urged.

"I don't want to go to school," Rory groaned, shifting away to bury her head in Jess's shoulder. He stirred beside her, blinking to wakefulness.

"Now, honey, that's just completely untrue." She searched for Rory's hand, grasping it and standing, bringing Rory's arm aloft with her. The movement was enough to wake Rory entirely. "Time for bed."

Rory glowered up at her, blue eye bright pinpoints in the darkness.

"You woke me so I could sleep?" she grumbled, still allowing her hand to hang limply in Lorelai's grasp, but making no effort to move.

"I made you up a bed. Next to _mine_," Lorelai emphasized. She hoped Rory got her drift. She didn't exactly want to get into the nuances of why she didn't want Rory sleeping under a blanket with _Jess_ just right now. That was the conversation best saved for _never_, or at least until there wasn't a crowd of sleepy and irritable maids ready to throw shoes at her head for waking them.

Jess looked between Rory and Lorelai, expression unreadable.

"You should go," he said softly.

"Don't want to."

Lorelai rolled her eyes. Rory had always been the crankiest child around bed time.

"Ror," he said, drawing their entwined hands out from beneath the blanket and giving hers a good shake. He lifted his chin, kissing her quickly on the forehead before pushing her away. "Go to bed."

Rory gave an exaggerated groan of complaint, standing as Lorelai tugged her up. She complied with Lorelai's puppeteering, allowing her mother to guide her out of the room. At the threshold, Lorelai cast a last look back at Jess. He was still sitting upright, still awake, watching as they left. Unbidden, irritation swelled up in Lorelai's chest – at Jess for handing Rory over without a fight. At _Rory_ for being handed over.

She bit her lip, strange feelings building inside her, skittering across her nerves, as she put Rory to bed on one of the couches. Michel had, as predicted, stolen her own bed. With a sigh, she retrieved another pile of bedding from the reception desk and laid down caddy-corner to her daughter, eyes tracing again and again over her face.

Lorelai got little sleep that night.

***

Eyes itchy and yawn stretching her jaw, Lorelai scrubbed a hand across her face. Blearily, she looked around, taking in the annoying holiday cheer of her workers. While she had tossed and turned, academic literary analysis echoing more and more ominously in her head, _they_ had enjoyed themselves, turning the lock in into a proper sleep over. Anita walked by with braided pigtails, grinning as she showed off the red and green bows someone had tied in; she could swear she saw Michel flush with pride at the display.

"Coffee?" Lorelai moaned out.

Perched on the couch, large cappuccino cupped in her hands, Rory smiled up at her.

"In the kitchen. With the brains, Ms. Romero."

Lorelai grunted her approval, shambling out of the room. Rory called after her, "Sookie made waffles!"

Ooh, waffles sounded good. She wove past the milling staff and guests, making her way to the kitchen. The more she moved, the more awake she felt, although there was still an uncomfortable mismatch between her body and mind, the honed exhaustion she felt propped up only by her churning emotions.

"Morning!" Sookie chirped as the door swung closed behind Lorelai. There was short queue behind the waffle iron Sookie was manning, whipping together a second batch of batter while sizzling and sweet bakery scents filled the aired. "Waffle up!"

She pried the waffle out with skill, plopping it onto a plate that she offered to Jim. He scooted away to spoon fresh berries and whipped cream on top. Sookie poured more batter in and then looked up at Lorelai, finally taking in her appearance.

"You, here," Sookie commanded, grabbing the sous-chef by the arm. "Don't let it burn."

He bobbed his head, pretending that mastering the art of wafflery was difficult, watching the iron attentively as Sookie turned to Lorelai, grasping her arms.

"Oh, honey. You look terrible. What happened?"

"Nothing," Lorelai said, smiling through the lie. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Well, I know the cure for that: espresso!"

Sookie bustled away to fire up the machine, and Lorelai sagged against the counter. Another waffle finished, another happy employee piled his plate up and left to go eat. The queue dwindled down to two: Jess and Lorelai. Slanting a quick look over at Sookie, Lorelai pressed her lips into a line as she waited. The waffle maker clicked, light switching over, and Jess extracted the waffle, sidling past Lorelai with his eyes averted.

"Raul, you are ruining my soufflé!" Sookie shouted suddenly, leaving the espresso machine to go berate him.

Seeing her opportunity, Lorelai scooted quickly around the central island in the kitchen, halting Jess in his path. He looked up from his plate to frown at her. He stepped sideways and she stepped with him.

"I have a bone to pick with you."

A muscle worked in his jaw.

"I find that hard to believe."

Lorelai crossed her arms, staring him down. Grumbling, Jess set his plate on the island, thumbing strawberry sauce from the edge as he did. He lifted his hand briefly to his mouth to suck it off, dark eyes bored and distant as he fixed his gaze over her shoulder. Lorelai wrapped a hand around her arm, fighting the urge to snap in front of his face for his attention.

"So, this gift of yours," Lorelai started. "I've been thinking about it. And sweet of you, by the way, to get it to Rory on time."

Jess's gaze flicked over to her but he remained silent. He wasn't going to help her out any, and that only irritated her more. His words from before swirled in her head, gnawing at her nerves as they had all evening.

"Why are you with Rory?" Lorelai burst out. "Why? Why, when you clearly think so little of her?"

"What?" Jess exclaimed, eyes snapping to hers in startlement. "You think I don't want to be with her? Because I was late with a _gift_? We didn't even say when we were going to meet! How was I supposed to know Rory was bringing mine by at the diner?"

"No, Jess! Not because you were late." Although that still didn't speak well of him, in her opinion. "Because of what you _said_. Why would you be so cruel about Rory?"

Jess squinted at her, brow furrowed.

"What I said?"

"About the book and Rory!"

A low, disbelieving laugh bubbled out of Jess.

"About _Roberto_? Why would you..." Jess's voice trailed off and he stared at her. He wiped a hand across his face, shaking his head. "It's good to know you've got such a high opinion of your daughter."

"Hey, don't turn this back on me, mister! You were the one with the literary allusions … and metaphors!" Lorelai said, feeling awkward as she lost steam. There was a flicker of insecurity across Jess's face and she realized he really had no idea what she was talking about. There had been no subtext.

"You didn't..." He licked his lips nervously. "You didn't tell this to Rory, did you?"

Lorelai shook her head silently. Jess merely nodded, shoulders stiff and eyes a little wetter than usual. She felt a twinge of guilt. He turned to go, but Lorelai stopped him with a touch on his arm.

"Jess?"

"Yeah," he asked, voice rough. He did not look at her.

"Why a book? I mean," Lorelai began to babble. "I know you two are all hooked on phonics and it's your _thing_... but Rory's kind of got a lot of books. And a library card. And a card to her grandpa's library. And I think she secreted Gutenberg away somewhere in the attic when I wasn't looking last March."

Jess shrugged one shoulder.

"The first night we met, I stole one of her books and I wrote in it and I," Jess stopped, scowling to himself before beginning again in a more sarcastic tone, leveling a tight, unhappy smile at her, "I thought it might mean something to her. It's no _car_, so maybe I'm wrong. But I'd rather let her be the judge, not you, okay?"

Picking up his plate again, he brushed past her to the dining room.

"Right, so, coffee for madam!" Sookie said. She presented a tiny cup on a thin china saucer to Lorelai.

"Thanks, Sook," Lorelai said, trying to summon up a smile as she stared at the still swinging door.

She felt like an ass.

***

Lorelai dawdled before exiting the kitchen, picking at her ungarnished waffle and generally making a nuisance of herself to Sookie. Eventually, with a loving smile, Sookie threatened to dice her up and use her in the brunch omelettes if she didn't vacate the area. Exiled, Lorelai snuck around the edge of the dining room, happy to find only guests and a smattering groggy staff occupying a handful of tables. She took one near the window, planting her chin on her fist to brood as she examined the beautifully snowy grounds beyond the frosted window. A few flurries, picked up by the wind, swirled past, and just beyond she could make out a few dark specks of people moving.

She'd really made a mess of things, hadn't she? Lorelai had never exactly been in Jess's cheering squad, nor he in hers, but she'd hoped maybe they could at least come to terms with each other for Rory's sake. She just wanted some kind of sign, good or ill, so she could commit to that feeling. This undefinable dread that had haunted her since he first moved to Stars Hollow left her raw and tired, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not even sure there'd been a _first_ shoe. But she knew she hadn't been right to leap to the conclusions she had. She had been wrong to read so much into his gift to Rory, so ready to condemn Jess over it, and a small part of her could admit why. She worried about exactly what he said – that Rory was too willing to be led around, too conscious of others' intellect and experience to trust her own – and that Jess would somehow lead her astray.

God, she thought, shifting back from the table to wrap her arms around herself. She sounded like her _mother_. Gross.

He wasn't going to make this easy, she realized, on her or on any of them. No room for snap judgments and no easy instructions on when he was in the right and when he was in the wrong. Just like a normal kid, Lorelai thought ruefully.

"Lorelai!" a muffled voice shouted.

Lorelai blinked, shaking herself from her self-recriminatory reverie. Two of the dark specks had coalesced just outside into people. Into Jackson and Luke, actually. She leaped up, going immediately to open the door.

"What are you doing here? Come in, come in," she urged, eyes flicking down at the same time to their feet in horror of the snow they would track in. To their _snowshoe_ shod feet. She frowned, and pointed to them. "Uh, Luke. What the heck?"

Luke pulled at his snow flecked scarf, taking off his hat and gloves to throw onto a nearby table.

"We just snowshoed across the town for _an hour_."

"Okay, but why? We're not Cannibal Island, yet."

Luke opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Jackson, nervousness and excitement coloring his voice, "Is Sookie around?"

"In the kitchen," Lorelai said, thumbing over her shoulder. Jackson rushed past her in an awkward, lopsided gait, snowshoes clomping on the floor. Lorelai turned in place to watch him, smile lighting her face. He was such a sweetheart. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she called after him, "And if she says anything about Matt and eggnog... just ignore it!"

"What?" Jackson called back, eyes widening under his balaclava. He goose stepped more quickly toward the kitchen door, shouting in distress, "Sookie!"

Turning back to Luke, Lorelai raised her eyebrows and waved a hand up and down to encompass his entire look.

"So what's the with Olympic gear?"

"The roads were impassable," Luke said, grunting as he stripped the snowshoes off, "and George said it was going to take him an hour to get around to plowing out here!"

"An hour," Lorelai repeated.

"Yes, a whole hour! Because God forbid George get off his tukhus and clear the snow of his machine before he has his first dainty cup of tea at seven in the morning. I'm up, every day, five o'clock, prepping the food for the breakfast crowd because I know that people have their own lives and I'm capable of showing a _little_ respect to them!"

"Um, Luke. You said it took you an hour to get here," Lorelai said slowly. "And he was going to clear our streets in an hour."

Luke flushed, looking away.

"Well, I didn't know it was going to take an hour when I left," he grumbled.

"Right, yeah," she said, patting him on the arm. "That's a mistake anyone could make."

"Anyway, the roads are clear now. I saw George driving past when we were coming around to the back."

"Great! Excellent. I guess I can get everyone packing then. Jess is..." Lorelai trailed off, not at all sure where Jess or Rory was. "Probably somewhere?"

"You're so helpful. Did you check up on him and Rory _at all_?"

Lorelai shrugged and Luke grumbled to himself, gathering together all of the remain of his outfit before storming off.

"Hey, Luke," she called. She pointed to the item dangling from his belt, barely visible under the short hem of his puffy down jacket. "What's with the dog whistle?"

Luke wheeled about in place.

"It's _duck call_. For in case Jess was hurt somewhere!"

Lorelai's lips moved, mouthing the words to herself. No, that still didn't any sense. She shook her head slowly and Luke turned in aggravation, stalking off toward the reception area. After a long pause, guilt speeding her steps, she jogged after him.

"Luke! Wait up!"

She slid to a stop beside him, both of them standing in the large entranceway near the stairs as they took in the sight before them. Rory and Jess, both slumped lazily in the way only Sunday and Christmas mornings could bring, curled on the couch together. Rory's head was on his shoulder, one arm winding around his back to hold his waist. He was holding her book in one hand, the other slowly winding and unwinding a lock of her hair around his fingers while he read in a murmur. Periodically, he would shift, loathe to give up the position, but compelled to turn to the page.

Luke started forward, clearly intent on breaking them up. Lorelai held out an arm in front of him, sliding around his large form to block him completely when he pushed it to the side.

"Luke, we can worry about them tomorrow," she said softly. "But today... just leave them be."

**THE END**


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